Posts Tagged ‘homeschool mom’

The next day, after much laughter and hilarity and swearing on the phone, (I never say crappy out loud! I only spell it!) I realized that all my personal and family and business files are still on the email account to which I no longer have access. There is SO MUCH on there… medical info, log-ins for my different sites, copies of proposals, correspondence with publishers, disability info for our girl, all the info about changing the ESA law….. I NEED TO GET IT BACK!

My sister-in-law, Jennie, is a mastermind at computery affairs and let me in on the fact that everything that was ever on the internet is still out there in space and can be retrieved. IF YOU KNOW HOW! She then proved it to me by finding pages that I thought were lost for all eternity, saving me hours of brain power and typing time! It gave me hope.

Cox was contacted again. This time it was a nine minute hold time, but if my files can be retrieved it will be worth nine years of my time! Nice lady number two took my call. She asked me to verify my account with the phone number used to open the account. GREAT! I asked how many tries I get. She sort of chuckled and asked how many I need. I replied, “Three.” She obliged and try number three was the slam dunk. She shoots! She scores! The correct number was the house phone that has been shut off for five or six years. (Please remember that this account was only opened three years ago!) (Insert profuse eye roll.)

I explained that my account was shut down just last week, but I need access to the files. She searched her script …. and competently found section 127 where it read, “If the customer needs files from a closed account, send them to a tier two operator.” So off I went, transferring … probably to India.

NO! It can’t be! Another person whose first language is English! It’s my lucky day! I should go buy a lottery ticket… except for we don’t gamble with the money the Lord has entrusted to us. Let’s move on. Nothing to see here, folks.

Once again, I lamented about my files in the inaccessible account. My newfound friend’s fingers were making a racket fiddling with her keyboard and I was put on “hopeful” hold numerous times. While she was digging for an answer, or my files, or playing Solitaire for all I knew, I decided to ask questions. Because that’s what homeschool moms do. We ask questions. ALL.DAY.LONG.

“Well, yes we do,” she claimed baffling me, “but only in certain markets. But you are in Phoenix and that market does have them still.” Well, glory be!

Through my mind went these random thoughts:

I don’t want to pay back $110 for my files! But I will.

What was that other birdbrain talking about… no emails without internet… GAH!

Do I even keep this account if I can get it back? They could close it again without telling me.

Is she simply acting like she’s trying to help me so I feel helped?

Eventually, the soft-spoken woman explained that this was beyond her capabilities and she would need to notify her supervisor who would call me back to answer my questions and find my files. Good. She asked for the best number to reach me. BAM!

Being an optimist, I believed her. It’s now been 24 hours with no return call. They probably called the dead house phone number, then sent a follow-up letter to Oklahoma.

Remembering more and more information that is stored in those missing files, my stomach began to roil in agitation. “Dear God, please let me get to my files,” was my last prayer uttered before heading upstairs to bed. Worn out and frustrated, I thought how could this get any worse?

Then out of nowhere, ZING! A blasted scorpion sunk its stinger in the side of my foot right by my little baby toe. SERIOUSLY!?! I’m not even joking.

People who don’t live in Arizona think a scorpion sting is the kiss of death. It’s not. Unless you weigh under 20 pounds. I don’t. I have been stung three or four times, so I quickly swallowed some ibuprofen, dabbed peppermint oil on the sting, and went to lie still in bed. You don’t want to pump the venom through your veins with activity. Today it is tender but I didn’t lose any sleep over the sting… or my files… thank the good Lord!

(Notice I refrained from mentioning that my husband owns and operates a pesticide business…. remind you of the cobbler whose children have no shoes? He does spray the house regularly, I simply find it ironic!)

2001 was my first experience with a homeschool convention as we were embarking on this crazy and rewarding choice to educate our kids at home. My inaugural entry into the exhibit hall brought on anxiety and trepidation… it was HUGE! How was I supposed to narrow down what curriculum I needed from the 27,000 choices? And yes, I cried … just a little. I never did find a grammar program… so I didn’t do grammar that first year. It’s all good. Really.

Also, that year, I was unaware of the seminars that were going on on the other side of the wall. How did I miss this? I don’t know. But year two when I found them it was like opening a Christmas gift in a new room every hour!

2016 is my fourth or fifth year speaking at the Arizona conference. What a joy and a blessing to share my homeschooling passion with newbies and oldbies. All of my mistakes give people hope. If I can do this, anyone can do this!

The 2016 REPORT

Never have I given a report, but I feel it is necessary this year. Soon you will know why.

Thursday there was a free mini conference for interested folks who are trying to decide if homeschooling is for them. My session was called Homeschool 101 and gave the info needed for teaching your kids in Arizona. The law. The requirements. The freedom. This was my fourth or fifth time giving this talk and I was feeling rather confident about my 45 minutes of responsiblity. However, after I brought up my PowerPoint and discovered my notes for that talk were not in my binder, my confidence waned a tad. I immediately pictured the stack of notes on my dresser waiting for the three-hole punch. Dang it!

Going with the flow is a necessary skill for homeschool moms… and it came in handy at that moment. I moved the laptop so I could read it a bit more clearly and embarked on my first seminar where I was shooting straight from the hip. Lord, help me! Usually this talk is full of information without much room for entertaining Crosby stories of things my children have done to me. This time, however, I told plenty of stories and still wonder what I left out! (I apologize, Thursday peeps!)

Friday my first seminar was Getting Started, which is the longer version of Homeschool 101. I did have notes I needed, and you may be asking yourself, “Why didn’t you use those notes yesterday?” Good question. They don’t follow the powerpoint and I would have looked confused. I’m all about what I look like. Bwahahahaha! No, really.

Usually at Getting Started on Friday I make an announcement before I begin telling folks who came to the Thursday talk to go hear another seminar…. I didn’t this time. I thought there might be pertinent information that I skipped. Better safe than sorry.

At the end of Getting Started, I figured out that my zipper on my pants was down the entire time. Thankfully I was wearing a shirt that covered this breezy are of my outfit.

Then came my initial delivery of a new seminar titled Using Art Across the Curriculum. Twenty minutes before this seminar I was handed a brief from the Phoenix Police that I was to familiarize myself with so I could make an announcement at the beginning of the seminar. I obeyed. (There was a hoax protest planned for downtown Phoenix.) But then I was almost late for my seminar. I scrambled in there and got set up with two minutes to spare. Perfect…. except that I needed to go to the bathroom. There wasn’t time. I honestly prayed, “Dear Jesus, please don’t let me pee my pants in front of all these nice folks. Amen.”

All went well until half way through the seminar I resorted to crossing my legs and squeezing tightly all the while praying that I could hold it. I tried to make it look casual by propping my crossed foot up on my toes. OHMYSTARS! I seriously had all these thoughts while giving my art seminar:

I am getting old and half to wear Depends now when I talk.

I swear I will never EVER skip the bathroom again before I speak.

Those dang protesters are getting all up in my business!

I could cut this short and no one would know. Just turn off the computer now.

What do I do if I really do pee my pants?

I could knock over my water bottle at the same time…… or the pitcher of water! Yes!

Thankfully, I survived with my bladder and dignity intact.

My lone Saturday talk and final seminar was Ideas for Planning and Scheduling. Again, I’ve delivered this info several times. It’s a fun seminar… because I made it fun by adding pictures of 1970s and 80s TV shows. It was a boring presentation until I included the Beaver, Richie, the Fresh Prince, Mork and Gilligan. Unfortunately, when I turned on my computer it was updating. WHAT!? You know, the update that says “1 of 3 updates complete. Do not turn off your computer.” The one that takes 30 minutes. I mildly freaked out. Thankfully I had gone to the little ladies room or there would have been an issue right then and there on the floor. The whole seminar consisted of showing planning and scheduling ideas…. in pictures… on the screen. Fourth seminar prayer, “Oh dear baby Jesus, I need help again!”

Greg, the faithful AV man showed up and tried to resuscitate my laptop to no avail. He then asked if I had the seminar saved in cyberspace. Thank GOD! I had emailed all the seminars to myself when I completed the PowerPoints. He brought in his computer and SAVED MY BACON! Whew. And we even started really close to on time. Thank you, Greg!

So that is how the 2016 Arizona Families for Home Education Convention went for me. See? Anyone can homeschool!

School is kind of “out for the summer” but in a different way than with my usual end-of-May homeschool mama joy and celebration. There was no counting down the days this year.

We have learned that some of the Colombian Princess’s challenges with memory are due to vast breaks in education… you know, like summer. So in a much diminished fashion, we are schooling a few days a week while home this summer, just to keep the pump primed. She was not real thrilled about this news, and I couldn’t let her know that I was not real thrilled about it either. Someone has to be excited about education… and it SHOULD be the teacher in most cases.

So now the home front needs some love and attention. In case anyone wonders what the Crosbys are doing for the next three months, get out your notepads and pencils… here you go:

We bought a stand up deep freeze to put in the garage.

Cleaning out the garage so we can fit in the stand up deep freeze.

Buying a shed to put the stuff that doesn’t need to be in the garage somewhere else. (Does the cost of the shed and deep freeze justify the savings on large quantities of meat? I’m not sure.)

Hauling junk from the side yard to the dump so we can put a shed in the side yard. (Is anyone besides me thinking of “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie?”)

Switching Austin’s and Nora’s bedrooms. (Austin gets the yellow room with the flowers and butterflies around the top of the walls! Oh goody!) This is happening because my niece from Maui is coming to live with us on the mainland for a bit… sharing the BIG room with Nora.

Picking up a room divider from a generous friend for the BIG room.

Gathering and selling an enormous amount of American Girl doll paraphernalia that is no longer played with. (She will be 13 years old in two months…. I feel there are a few more years to play with dolls…. because she is my baby girl after all.)

Selling the cute white dresser from the yellow room. (Wide is no longer cool when you share a room. Tall is where it’s at.)

Borrowing a single bed from my brother’s house. The BIG room is only so BIG.

Cleaning out the master closet. (I am going to start this today as soon as this blog is finished. Blogcrastination is what that is called.) I mean TOTALLY cleaning it out. It’s been 12 years since we’ve seen the walls and back carpet in there. Don’t judge. If there is dust lining the shoulders on top of the hanger marks, Rickey, it’s leaving.

Buying #2 new door handle and bolt lock for the front door. My first attempt was feeble even though the lame wrong size handle is on the door right now. It looks like Billy-Bob came by and changed it for us. Wrong size… with a screw hole two inches below the handle. Dumb.

I’m hoping to have this all done by next week. I know that will not happen, but I am a positive thinker! Where are my minions?

Early in the morning at 9:00, (for a homeschool mom anyway!) I was sitting in my van outside the house where Nora has a class for an hour. My computer was open and I was proofreading a PowerPoint for a seminar I give on choosing homeschool curriculum. I came to a slide where I have photos of different unit studies for comparison. One photo was the sole example I could find online of the contents of a unit study on Obedience by my all time favorite curriculum, Konos. The photo was blurry and pathetic, however I justified it by noting how many different colored blurry indistinguishable items there were… showing volume…. not detail… AT ALL. I recalled scouring the web for a better picture to no avail. Small size it is almost clear, but blown up on a big screen, it’s horrid. That’s the gospel truth. Here it is:

When Nora was done, we drove downtown and visited my friend, Ana, who is the kind soul who processes all the homeschool affidavits for Maricopa County. (Can I just say that the view from her 12th story office facing north was FANTASTIC including a community garden, three beautiful brick Catholic schools and Camelback Mountain! WOW!) As we were chatting I noticed a brochure on her desk for the Covenant Homeschool Resource Center, which I knew was also downtown. Mentioning that I had never been there (not mentioning that this is my 15th year homeschooling) she drew me a map and insisted that I go, as it was only three blocks away. Perfect!

Nora and I found the little hole-in-a-wall resource center and ventured inside. To say that it is crammed to capacity of curriculum and books and resources is the understatement of the century. Fuller than a centipede’s sock drawer.

Right away we found Nora’s science books for next year and then I started chatting with my friend, Janet, who runs the place. (She’s probably the one who crams all the books on those sagging shelves!) I inquired about her married daughter and come to find out, her and her new husband are living in Lynden, WA. Being very familiar with Lynden as we used to live right across the border in Canada, I remarked about how beautiful it is there. But that’s not all, Janet’s son-in-law is working at Trinity Western University… where Rick and I met and went to college. What a small world. (Sing with me, “It’s a small world after all… It’s a small world after all…)

Oh, it even gets better. As we were commenting about the coincidence of that, over her shoulder I spied the curriculum box for Obedience… the one in my blurry photo from earlier that morning! I promise you, I heard angels singing. She let me take it down and set it all up pretty and she even took the photo with her camera and emailed it to me. Here it is:

I love it when that happens! Thank you, God, for answering a prayer that was a desire of my heart, that I didn’t even pray. Amen and amen.

If you have been to any of my seminars for homeschooling, you are well aware that the river is my escape from schooling when it isn’t exactly working out as planned… and my fill-in for science. Look, plants! Look, frogs!

Homeschooling is hard, friends. But God made rivers and saw that they were good.

When kids can’t read when they “should”… go to the river.

When kids can’t remember the math operations you taught them yesterday… go to the river.

When children born in America who only have one language can’t seem to speak or spell their native tongue… go to the river.

See? It works wonders in multiple situations. We have been going to the Verde River in north east Scottsdale for 15 or 16 years. When we discovered it, it was an undeveloped reedy wonderland of huge stones, polliwogs and secret tunnels in the cattails. My kids LOVED it. I loved it, who are we kidding here?

Our minivan braved the rocky banks many times before the Tonto National Forest folks paved most of the road, cleared the rocks for a parking lot, put up barriers so you can’t accidentally drive into the river, and placed porta-potties for our general convenience. It is still just as grand and adventurous as the days of old… minus the standing water filled with frogs eggs. I miss that.

Phoenix has met or broken more heat records this year in the last month than I remember in all 19 years that we have lived here. It was 91 on Friday, MARCH 4th so I summoned some homeschool peeps and we went to the river. In the shade of the buzzing trees (Bees were very busy collecting pollen! Science… check!) it was ideal for us moms to sit and relax in our camping chairs.

The water, however, was straight from high country snow melt and had the 17-year-old almost-men screaming like little girls because of the chill. My brave little Colombian princess was the first one all the way under… which is a BIG deal because she only went in up to her ankles for the first hour. I think her feet went numb and her brain froze and then she went all the way in.

As usual science naturally occurred. The kids gathered flowers for me when they saw my nature journal. The boys picked cattails and had sword fights. Several kids discovered a dead possum and examined its claws and teeth. Most importantly, they enjoyed being out in God’s creation and so did every one of the moms.

I have been noticeably missing from My Sister’s Jar for two months….well, at least I noticed I was missing. We have had another bump in the ever bumpy road of our lives, but we carry on, get back in the driver’s seat and plead for God’s help once again.

It was May when our little Colombian princess was tested at a reading specialist and several (meaning more than 5!) different learning differences were detected. This was an AHA! moment for me as well as a WELL- DUH! momentmixed together. I assumed some of the difficulties were because Nora has only been speaking English for four years. This didn’t seem to apply at all once the road blocks to learning were identified.

I believe I have mentioned on here before some of my frustration teaching my own children who can’t seem to remember what I’ve taught them, and don’t really care that they can’t remember, and just want to go outside and look at clouds and dig in the dirt. I handed over Nora’s math teaching to her two older brothers for several months at the suggestion of our principal, my husband. It saved me from the desire to bang my head on the kitchen table when there was no recall of ANYTHING she could do yesterday.The boys didn’t seem to mind re-teaching carrying, borrowing, multiplying with zeroes over and over and over and over and over again. I did mind. It is a weakness of mine, as a homeschool mom, to want my children to learn and retain and move ahead, especially in phonics, reading and math.

With Austin, now 19, he was shown the letter F for 63 straight days of my ever-loving-homeschool-teaching-journey. He finally read the blinkin’ English language when he was NINE. That’s almost TEN. You know, three years before being a teenager. There weren’t any learning differences. He was just a late reader. (Insert mother justification….) He designed and installed our backyard sprinkler and drip system when he was also nine. He’s a smart kid. I kept the faith that God would touch the brain inside that hard, blonde head… and He did! Thank you, Jesus. It still brings me to tears when I relay the story of the first time in his life when Aus read… anything…it was a sign at Sequoia National Park, “Do not feed the deer!”

Back to the Colombian princess. When I heard the phrase “auditory processing” I wasn’t sure what it meant, so of course I googled it. Lo and behold, and what to my wondering eyes should appear, and good golly why didn’t I remember this… a website popped up of a lady WHOM I KNOW! Oh yeah, she teaches on learning differences. She gave me great suggestions ten years ago when I was trying to get Austin to read C-A-T without the far-and-away look in his big blue eyes. Here is what I discovered: MAGIC! There were 16 symptoms listed for people who have learning differences in the area of auditory processing. Nora has all 16! WHAT? (I pride myself of being an overachiever too!)

Nora is attending reading classes with a specialist who understands left brain/right brain connections that need to be established. The “reading class” consists of physical activities outside to help cross the mid-line of the brain. School has taken a decidedly different look this year, with WAY more focus on my part, which has introduced me to a new level of exhausted. From 9:00 p.m. to midnight was MY time to get my work done. Now I’m dragging through dinner and looking at the clock longingly at 7:30 p.m. without the energy to get anything done. But God knows what He is doing. None of Nora’s challenges were made apparent until Austin was graduated from high school. The Lord knows what we can handle and what would throw us head over heels into the loony bin, and obviously teaching Austin and Nora (the new way) together was beyond my capabilities. And I am thankful we learned about all this when we did!

So as I start each new day, as a homeschool mom, around 8:30 a.m. or 9:30 a.m., I remind God that these are really His kids, and I need His help once again to leave my bedroom and teach them how to learn, how to love God and how to succeed in life! I could not do this on my own! And that’s a fact, Jack!

Several months ago our family found out about friends who were in need of some help. Sickness had struck their home with a vengeance and last but not least, the mama was down. RED ALERT! Mama Down! This is not your ordinary mama either. Buckle up. God, the father to the fatherless, called this beautiful lady to foster/adopt six kiddos… and homeschool them….. as a single mama. She takes my breath away.

I met her at homeschool park day when her last two littles were two-month-old twins. It didn’t take much persuading for me to help hold one of those little darling girls. This mama has been on my heart ever since that day. How can we help her? What can we do to support her in this call from God? We need to be God’s hands and feet for her!

Back to the RED ALERT!, we stepped in for two days and did what we saw needed to be done…. babies bathed, bathrooms cleaned, dishes washed, dirty clothes laundered, meals prepared, games played and stories read. Her children truly are blessings, well behaved, loving and helpful. (Isn’t it every mother’s prayer that her own children are seen in this light!?)

While we were on duty, mama fainted and thankfully I was right next to her. Not that I helped with the descent or the crash landing, but I made sure we went down NOT on hard surfaces or pokey things or gooey stuff. See? I’m helpful! In directing her away from a wooden shelf, the back of my hand came in contact with a corner of said hard, wooden shelf. My hand was bruised, but the skin was not broken. No big deal.

(Gosh, my hands look old. When did that happen?)

It’s been three months, maybe four, since that fateful day and the little mark on the back of my hand has not gone away AT ALL. It doesn’t appear to be on it’s way out of my life. It has scarred into a cute, little silvery-pink line. It winks at me every day and whispers to me that I need to pray for that mama. It’s God’s little reminder to me that we all need prayer. He will do what He needs to do to remind us daily to lift up each other to His throne of grace.

Who do you need to pray for today? Just do it! (I stole that from a shoe company.)

Basha’s is a local grocery store chain here in Arizona that I used to frequent a LOT due to its proximity to our house at that time. We moved near Basha’s when I was pregnant with our third child and lived in that wonderful house for six years.

As you can imagine, I visited the store OFTEN with all three children. The three children that God blessed us with who don’t really look that much like their mother or father. We have two blond-haired, blue-eyed kids and one with dark brown eyes and hair. My husband has black hair and light brown eyes. I have light brown hair and green eyes. Genetics are a weird deal. I tell you all this frivolity to set up the first happy memory.

Happy (sort of) Memory #1: I was casually strolling the aisles at Basha’s with my three offspring, when a lady in her mid-twenties came up and inquired, “Are these all your children?” “Yes, they are,” I replied proudly. Then she had the audacity to ask, “Do they all have different dads?” What in the blue blazes was she thinking??? I glanced down at my attire, wondering if I left home with only wearing my underwear … nope, fully clothed, not looking like a hoochie-mama. I assured her that indeed, these three angels did have the same father, but I didn’t go into the fact that none of them look like him. Good gravy, lady!

Happy Memory #2: In our homeschool we studied a unit in science about the motion of falling objects. One of the examples was Galileo dropping a cannonball and a musketball off the Leaning Tower of Pisa to determine that falling objects fall at the same rate. Of course we climbed up in the play house and dropped all sorts of items into the dirt below to test this ourselves. Back to Basha’s…. months later we were in the pasta aisle and my middle child was closely examining the spaghetti sauce jars. (Not sure why???) When all of a sudden he yelled (because he never spoke quietly until he was 12) “Mom! Here is the crooked building that the guy threw the rocks off of!” (Insert song from the Sound of Music as I mentally skip through the hills of happiness!)

Happy Memory #3: Yet another trip to Basha’s with my two little boys in the seats of the cart and my personal shopper (7 year old daughter) walking beside me. A kind, elderly lady with fluffy white hair shuffled by and stopped to look at my children. She smiled so sweetly. (I braced myself to explain that I only had one husband.) Finally she remarked, “You have beautiful children!” I whole-heartily agreed, but merely said, “Thank you!” As she slowly made her way down the aisle, my loud, middle child yelled to the grandma, “My daddy drives a fancy Cadillac!” It was true, albeit a hand-me-down from my parents, but his statement shocked me, nonetheless. The sweet little lady threw her head back and belly laughed, as did I.

Happy Memory #4: This same store had a very generous produce manager who allowed our daughter to go behind the black swinging doors each week to get free “rotten” food for her bunny rabbit, Blackie Honey Bunny Crosby.

Sorry, another post-accident report but thankfully not from the couch! I lived on the couch for six long weeks. At first it was because of the damage to my legs from the airbag UNDER the steering wheel. (You might want to check if you have an air bag down there and wear shin guards while driving, if you do.) On day #4 post-accident, I realized my shoulder was hurt and that I couldn’t lie on either side on the couch OR in bed. I am still in that state… flat on my back in bed with my legs elevated…. with a pile of pillows crammed against the back of my reading chair so as not to fall off the bed. But I digress.

After my 6th week of “no significant improvement” at therapy, I was sent for nerve testing. Nerve testing = acupuncture. Or more appropriately, you are now a voodoo doll. The good news out of that supremely stressful doctor visit was that I was sent to pain management, who promptly put me on medication #27. (Do not fear, I have stopped taking the first 23.) Med27 plays some sort of hokus-pokus on my nerves and I have had a VAST improvement in range of motion for my right arm. Read: I still can’t lift the milk jug, but the therapist did a happy dance that I can now scratch a giraffe’s neck. Side effects of Med27 include, but are not limited to: drowsiness, lack of short term memory, general lethargy and an overwhelming desire to do nothing.

All that said, the eight day camping trip to the Grand Canyon, Mesa Verde, Canyon de Chelley, Four Corners, the Painted Desert and the Petrified Forest that didn’t happen in April has been reduced to a five day camping trip to the Grand Canyon. Commencing on Monday, June 3rd. Two days from right now. Thankfully, the other crazy homeschool mom, CJ, whom we have been studying National Parks with all year, has picked up my slack and we are venturing forth in two days from right now. CJ went so far as to purchase a Sprinter van seating 14 that her 6’4″ husband can stand up inside. Read: I don’t have to drive at all OR pack a car. As per usual, the week before departure, we went through our lists of what to take. The division of camping equipment went something like this: CJ CJ CJ CJ CJ me CJ CJ CJ CJ CJ me. And that might be an exaggeration for “me’s”. Thank you, CJ!

Today about 4:12 pm, I realized what my life has come down to. Normally when embarking on a road trip, I print packing lists for my kids. (Remember, I am a list maker. I thrive on lists. I make detailed lists. I am an overachiever at making lists.) But never in my 20 years of parenting have I printed an extra “kid packing list” for myself. This is what it has come to… and I’m O.K. with it. Except I added to the bottom of mine: Med27.

First let me add the back story. Our daughter was coming home from college and we had to get her little brother moved out of her room and back in the big bedroom he shares with his brother. They are 14 and 16. After the 14-year-old’s paraphernalia was removed, I dusted, vacuumed and made her bed for her.

As I was working I heard my eldest son trying to talk his brother into moving into the loft for the summer. It went something like this: “It will be so cool!” “You will love it!” “We’ll move the bookshelves and it will be private!” “I will help you!” “Let’s go ask mom.” The 14 year-old wasn’t saying much as he moved his stuff back down the hall. They came. They begged. I am still on narcotics from the car accident two months ago. I am in no state of mind to be making life-altering decisions…. like giving up the homeschool/sewing loft at 11 p.m. thankyouverymuch. I told them I didn’t care. And I didn’t. And I went to bed.

Fast forward two and a half hours to a metal wheel sound waking me up in the dark of the night. Yes, it was 1:30 a.m. I stared at the ceiling and told my husband, “This is all my fault. That noise…. it’s a pulley. I taught him how to use pulleys about 7 years ago.” We got out of bed to witness THIS:

Our 16-year-old son had made himself a castle… in the loft…. way past midnight… with a drawbridge (run with a pulley that hung from a bike hook screwed into the ceiling) …. and crenals and merlons cut from cardboard. It WAS SO COOL that he decided to move in himself. I shook my head in dismay and confessed to my husband that I also taught him about castles…. and crenals and merlons. I asked my creative son what we should call him now. Obviously he replied, “King Austin!” Of course. Silly me.

The next morning, I questioned how long he planned to live in his castle. He looked at me with hopeful eyes and answered with a question, “All summer??????” Those were his big blue puppy dog eyes staring at me. Fine. Whatever. “You will be patching the hole in the ceiling in August.” “O.k., thanks, mom.”

This could have been worse, I told myself as I climbed back into bed. I’ve also taught him about catapults, guillotines, war trenches and fur trappers. Oh, it could have been WAY worse.

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What’s the Deal with the Jar?

Welcome to My Sister's Jar. The story behind the blog lies in the original post on Feb. 2, 2008. Type "giddy moments" into the search box to find it.

I'm a homeschool mom who loves to speak and write, encouraging moms to press-on in motherhood. Two of my books are available NOW! Laughing in the Midst of Mothering and Laughing in the Midst of Marriage. See them at www.LindaCrosby.com or www.cbd.com.

I have four children, one of whom is adopted from Colombia, so there are LOTS of adoption tidbits here.
~~~~~~ Linda Ann Crosby